


The Puzzle House

by AvarusFaust



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Feels, Fill in the plot holes, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Nygmobblepot, Puzzle House, Slight Canon Divergence, depictions of mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-09 03:50:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvarusFaust/pseuds/AvarusFaust
Summary: After giving up his revenge on Sofia Falcone to save the Riddler, Oswald takes his injured companion to a safe place so that the two of them may heal both physically and emotionally. However, despite the exchange of trust at the infamous pier, there is still much to be resolved between them. A task proving to be easier said than done. With their clashing personalities struggling to see eye to eye, Oswald and Ed are faced with a challenge even greater than themselves. Namely the safety of Martin. Riddler believes him to be safe, hidden away in an elaborate puzzle house, but things soon turn deadly when they attempt to retrieve the boy and Riddler is suddenly out of the picture once more. With a mostly clueless and still volatile Ed at the wheel instead of Riddler, can the two of them put aside their issues to rebuild their trust at least long enough to rescue Martin and escape the death trap of a puzzle house with their lives?





	The Puzzle House

**Author's Note:**

> Authors: Avarus Faust & Spectregeneral66  
Spectregeneral66 and I have harmonized our vastly different writing styles to bring you our contribution to the Gotham Big Bang: The Puzzle House. It takes place during season 4 of Gotham, specifically after episode 15. Warning slight spoiler alert if you haven't finished watching season 4. Hope you enjoy it! The artwork for this piece was done by the amazing, my-chemical-romanoff and can be seen on there tumblr. Linked here: https://my-chemical-romanoff.tumblr.com/post/187417476925/this-is-my-piece-for-the-gotham-big-bang-my-story

The journey back to the nearest safe house passed by in such a blur of noise and glaring color that it was a true wonder to Oswald how he managed to keep the car from swerving and killing both of them. The exhaustion of the day and indeed everything leading up to this new, fragile peace that they seemed to have reached, had been creeping up around him from the moment Ed had given him that look. That intense, studying look that said Oswald had suddenly become a puzzle that he didn’t know how to solve anymore, and he wasn’t sure whether or not to be terrified. And to be perfectly honest, if Ed had decided not to trust him and pulled the trigger, Oswald would have let him, and that should have been far more terrifying than it was. 

As they pulled into the back alley that would take them to a hidden door, Oswald was dimly aware of the fact that he was shaking, though whether that was from the swiftly falling adrenaline or his soaking wet clothes, he wasn’t sure. The ice had certainly done a number on him, a fact that he’d been covering through sheer aggression and force of will. However, when he hoisted himself out of the car, a fierce throb that threatened to make his leg buckle shot through him and he had to struggle through the wave of dizziness that washed over him. 'Was this what Ed felt after being unfrozen?' he wondered idly in his haze before managing to shake it off. Ed was injured. That had to be taken care of first, then he could rest. Oswald hobbled around the car to the passenger side, leg dragging more than normal, and pulled the door open, looking at his once-so-called friend expectantly. 

Riddler’s head was reeling. He laughs to himself, ‘Must be from Oswald’s driving.’ But he knew it was more likely from the throbbing pain in his jaw and mouth traveling up through his entire skull. The loss of blood definitely wasn’t helping with the dizziness either. The adrenaline that was keeping him going was definitely dropping. He could feel himself fading in and out. The exhaustion of everything he had gone through finally sinking in. As he jolts up to the sound of the car door being opened, it takes a second for his eyes to refocus. Once his sight adjusts, he sees Oswald standing there holding the car door open.

“Oswald... Where are we?” 

Old habits die hard and the immediate rush of anxiety and instinct to tell Ed that it was none of his business and not to ask questions was a hard one to stamp down, even in the wake of this new trust. Guilt and disgust at himself rose in his gut like a snake. How could he claim to trust Ed one minute and then turn back to being secretive and sneaky the next? He couldn’t. It was that simple.

“Somewhere safe,” he replied, forcing himself to meet Ed’s eyes, “one of the few left at present.” He held out a hand to his friend, keeping his expression as open as possible.

Ed seems content with Oswald’s answer and turns to reach for his hand but winces, “Uhn,” as a twinge of pain travels up from his leg. He had forgotten about where Sofia had driven a serrated scalpel into his leg and twisted it around. Or more likely it was just masked by the rest of the pain his body was feeling right now. 

‘I’m strong enough to smash ships but I fear the sun. What am I?’ The Riddler quotes to himself. “Heh...” A slight laugh escapes him. ‘This is nothing... slowly thawing out was way worse,’ Nygma tells himself as he pushes himself forward and grabs Oswald’s hand.

Oswald did his best to pull the larger man to his feet and support him, but it was more than a little awkward considering his own unsteady leg and his small stature didn’t help despite the strength it could have when consumed with rage. They wobbled precariously for a moment as he struggled to balance the new weight. He tried not to think too hard when he wrapped one of those long, lanky arms around his shoulders and put his own around the slender waist.  
‘You’re just helping him walk,’ his mind hissed at him furiously, ‘this means nothing you needy little freak!’ He bit his lip, probably a little harder than necessary, and took a few steps forward. His leg screamed at him in the instant that it had to bear more weight than just his own and his jaw clenched. Despite the pain, a giddy sense of hilarity bubbled up inside him and he couldn’t help but give a slightly hysterical laugh. “What-haha! What has four legs,” he snickered, “but can only walk on two?”

It’s a horrible joke but Riddler cannot stop the smile that forms on his face and the slight laugh that escapes him. He probably would have laughed more if his mouth wasn’t in such distress. 

“You always were horrible at this,” Riddler says, amused by Oswald’s attempt despite how bad it was. “Oswald... it’s alright. My leg is not so bad that I cannot bear weight down on it. That, and clearly my weight is too much for you, in your current condition,” he points out as he shifts his position just slightly so less of his weight is pushing down on Oswald. 

The smaller man stiffened slightly, as though he’d suddenly been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His eyes darted to Ed’s face too quickly to notice before he looked away again.  
“What condition?” he laughed albeit slightly nervously, “I’m not the one covered in blood and various new holes.” He struggled in vain to keep himself from shaking as a gust of wind cut through his damp clothes. “I’m perfectly well Ed, but if you insist.” He stepped away, reluctantly, the arm around Ed’s waist lingering for just a second too long before they separated and gestured for his guest to follow as he unlocked the door and shuffled into the building.

“Oswald...” Riddler gives him a serious look. “You froze yourself in a block of ice. I know you were not frozen anywhere near as long as I was…,” He tries his hardest not to point blame as he brings up that topic. “But regardless, it definitely takes a toll on one’s body.” He steadies himself feeling a wave of dizziness flow over him when Oswald stepped away. Fighting against the oncoming nausea, along with what seems to be an endless throbbing headache, he manages to get inside.

Riddler continues pointing out Oswald’s adversities once the door is shut behind them, “Not to mention how long you were in Arkham, your appearance alone shows that you must have suffered some form of torture while you were there.” Riddler scans him over seemingly, mentally noting all of Oswald’s physical bruises. His expression shifts from processing to a pained concern. 

“Let me worry about my ‘appearance,’ thank you,” Oswald muttered somewhat testily under his breath as he hobbled over to a dusty chest of drawers and pulled out a stash of clean, if modest, clothing. As he slipped the large coat off his shoulders and began to unbutton his filthy Arkham uniform, his eyes fell on one of the many marks left on him by Valeska’s followers and stiffened. 

A grin suddenly grows on Riddler’s face. “I hope my riddle didn’t add to the damage too much.” He says imagining how Oswald’s face looked when receiving the knuckle sandwich. 

He gave a quick, furtive glance over his shoulder at Ed and slowed his progress with the buttons. “As if an Arkham desk jockey could leave any kind of lasting impression,” he replied with a nervous giggle, “Please. I’ve taken far more than a damaging punishments than a punch to the mouth.”

Oswald had never particularly enjoyed changing around other people. His tiny frame and sickly appearance had often made him a target in similar situations as a child, but that was not it. He knew that Ed had seen him unclothed while tending to his health long ago and he had made his peace with that. No, it was the bruises and contusions that had been left on his body during his time in Arkham. They were like shining beacons of his utter weakness and humiliation. He had been powerless to stop the machinations of that twisted slimeball. Even his final stand against the bastard hadn’t been enough to save his pride. More than anything, Oswald did not want Ed to see that weakness. It didn’t help that the lamp post of a man was between him and the washroom. He sighed and turned to face the other man, holding his shirt closed.

“I won’t be a moment,” he muttered and made a beeline shuffle toward the other room, praying that Ed would be far too distracted by his own pain to give him any kind of obstacle.

Riddler’s expression shifts back to one of puzzled concern. ‘... maybe I should not have said that last bit...’ he thinks to himself. He moves into Oswald’s path to block his way, curious to why he is trying to move with such haste. 

“You are not a man easily trifled with…,” his eyes narrowing behind his glasses, almost coldly peering down at the shorter man but then Riddler’s expression lightens again. “Do you want to talk about what happened at Arkham? Is there someone else who we need to exact revenge on?” His mouth forms into an uncomfortable grin showing way too much excitement at the idea, despite his own condition.

Did Oswald want to talk about Arkham?

This question was both touching and insulting. He wanted to be angry. The feeling surged under his skin like a live, writhing serpent, twisting around his mind and strangling off all rational thought so that only his most erratic and aggressive impulses could surface. He wanted to scream about it. He wanted to lash out and sting Ed with all the barbs of his pain, suffering, loneliness, and hopelessness that had sunk into his very bones while caged within those walls.

It was Ed’s face that stopped him. The look of concern that almost made him feel as though they were friends again and the expression of sheer joy at the thought of helping Oswald give pain back to those that had dealt it. It sliced his rage in half and bared a wound that needed to bleed out the infection of resentment, if Oswald would only let it.

“I....uh..” he stammered, his usual eloquence leaving him as he stared at the taller man like a cornered animal. Then something in his heart and his gaze hardened, a smirk curving the corners of his lips that hinted at something dark and nefarious. “Yes,” he murmured softly, a hint of glee in his voice, “Yes, there most certainly is, but it will require both of us to be at our peak performance and no small amount of finesse....no one makes a joke of me and lives long...” The last part seemed to be more to himself. A low, venomous growl that twisted his expression into one of predatory intent. Then it was though he suddenly came back to himself and offered Ed a placating smile. “But first, a Doctor for you and clean clothes for me. Can’t have you bleeding everywhere, despite it being a savagely good look for you.”

Nygma observes Oswald’s reaction carefully. He knows he has to avoid upsetting him, at least for now... Oswald had undoubtedly saved Ed again. Any moment later and they would have been dead in the water.

Riddler’s grin returns as Oswald’s ‘yes..’ hits his ears. “I’m looking forward to it. I’m sure I can come up with a fantastic plan. But... A doctor does sound like a good plan.” He steps back a little making space for Oswald to continue past him if he still wanted to. “Oswald... we both know I look horrible right now...” He sighs, “Now I have to get dry cleaning.” He mutters to himself looking down at his stained shirt and suit.

“You think so?” Oswald hummed curiously, tilting his head to one side as though studying Ed. “I’ve always thought that covered in blood was a rather dashing look for you. Though I’ll admit, it’s much more enticing when it comes from someone else.” There was a playful hint to his smile, like a remnant of what they used to be, but it was edged with a hopeful trepidation. He was still learning the ins and outs of what could set off the temper of a fully in control Riddler, or worse, bring out the other one. The one that would have left him to rot in Arkham. The one that hated him.

Ed looks at Oswald confused. His brow wrinkling into an expression that looked vaguely upset. “You can’t be seri...” He suddenly cuts off. Nygma’s tense expression completely gone as if it were never there to begin with, and in its place a smile. 

“Is that right... Well, that can be easily rectified.” Riddler’s over-excited grin re-emerges as he leans in close to Oswald. “Once you tell me who it is you wish to destroy.” He pulls back straightening himself. “But first things first, right?”

Oswald blinked in surprise, feeling as though a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on his head. What in the frozen, innermost circle of Hell was that?! While he had not been privy to any of Ed’s inner warring, he had seen the switch of the two personalities enough to know that this was wildly different and more than a little unsettling. “Er....” he cursed his brain’s recent inability to react with its usual quickness. Perhaps the ice had addled him somewhat. “Yes...well....I’ll be getting on with that....I’ll see if any of my connections still hold. I might be able to find a doctor willing to work on you...unless...” he felt a cold hand of something like jealousy creep down his spine, but he pushed it away affecting nonchalance, “I suppose you could always call your doctor friend…. Thompkins.”

Riddler’s amused expression turns sour. “Lee...” A look of concern forms on his face as he seems to realize last he saw Lee was when he was leaving to find Grundy.

‘Lee! Where is Lee!’ Ed screams in his head.

Riddler looks at the ground and shakes his head. “Eh... Alright...” Riddler irritatingly mutters to himself under his breath, but it comes off louder than he expected. “...If... if there is actually no one you have in mind...” He is starting to sound tired and he knows it. “We could ask Lee. But... is it even safe to seek her out yet?” He looks to Oswald for answers.

At that moment, it occurred to Oswald that he had essentially stood Lee up on their planned rendezvous to kill Sophia. He refused to feel the guilt of any kind for it. Saving Ed had been the right decision, despite what it had cost, but he wasn’t entirely certain of how well leaving Lee alone to deal with Sophia would sit with Ed.

“Ah...perhaps not...at least not in our current states,” Oswald replied in a rush, “who knows where she is now. I’ll call someone else.” He could feel his nerves starting to rattle.

“Right...” But worry creeps back up with Oswald’s words ‘who knows where she is now.’ Nygma grits his teeth but instantly regrets it flinching in pain. ‘No...’ Riddler stomps down Ed’s rising emotions. He tries to shake it off, his pain along with the thoughts of his lesser self. But it only serves to make him feel more light-headed. Riddler whites out momentarily, his head reeling once again. “Oh dear...” He loses his balance and starts to fall.

Oswald darted forward, dropping the clothes and reaching to catch the taller man without a thought. His leg screamed in protest and shook as Ed’s full weight came down on him, forcing him to grit his teeth in pain. “Ed!” He ground out hoarsely, frantically trying to gain some sort of proper grip on the green suited idiot. Through sheer strength of will, he managed to drag his friend over to the musty old sofa and roll the lanky man onto it before sliding to his knees in a panting heap. He scrambled across the floor to his coat, fumbling to pull out the phone still hidden in its sodden pockets. Once located, he smashed redial on the last number that he had called before going to the docks, Lee’s number.

Riddler could feel himself drifting in and out. The sound of Oswald calling out his first name reaches his ears. ‘I have to move...’ He tries to will himself to move but nothing seems to happen. Vaguely he can feel the weird sensation of being pulled and dragged. He suddenly hits something soft yet somewhat hard. Riddler finally gets himself to move slightly, raising his hand up to push his glasses up slightly in order to rubber his eyes, his vision shifting back in but blurred. He is able to make out a figure who he presumed was Oswald fumbling about the room. A muffled sound catching his ears. Was he ranting or panicking? He couldn’t make out any of the words. It was clearly more likely that Oswald was panicking. Riddler had to do something, he tries to tell his body to move, to at least sit up but it is no use. With no other options, he attempts to call out to him, reaching out at the air. “Oswald... Oswald, I’m fine... I just need rest...” he tries to say but he’s not even sure if the sound actually left his mouth. His whole body now feeling like a numb ache. Riddler feels what little strength he had left draining away. ‘Damn..’ the last of his will to stay awake fades, his arm goes limp and everything fades to black.

Oswald had to call three times before Lee finally picked up the phone. Her angry bark of ‘What is it?!’ was barely out of her mouth before he managed to spill every bit of information on their current predicament at a pace that he was certain she wouldn’t follow.

After that it had taken her about a half hour of Oswald, fidgeting and fretting over his injured friend before she had knocked at the safe house door. She breezed past him, disdain highlighting her aggravatingly lovely face with an elegance that he never managed to keep despite his best efforts, and got straight to work.

Though he knew it was purely professional, Oswald’s stomach revolted at the sight of her touching Ed with such care. It reminded him of how things could easily go awry should Riddler lose control to Edward’s blind adoration of the Queen of the Narrows. He didn’t know if he could handle another stab like that.

Once she had finished, Lee approached him slowly, nose wrinkling ever so slightly as she took in his appearance. “I should take him home with me,” she said coolly, “I could monitor his condition much more easily.”

Oswald’s jaw clenched at the sheer amount of dismissal in her voice. There had been a time, not so long ago, when they had treated each other with respect and in the time not long after, he had taken the fall for her once precious Jim Gordon. He had done much in his life to be hated for, but what misdeed he had committed against Lee Thompkins bewildered him.

“I would think as a doctor you would consider moving him unwise” he retorted waspishly, far too tired and in pain to afford her any polite behavior.

“Well if every injured person stayed home, the hospitals would be empty... And...” Lee gave Oswald a sincere but serious look. “there would be a lot less survivors.” She carefully monitored Oswald for any extreme spikes in aggression. Looking him over she could see that he was even more disheveled now then when she had last seen him. He hadn’t even changed out of his gross clothing. She sighed. “I’d just be taking him back to my clinic. Ed would be safe there, if that is what you are worried about.”

Tension radiated off Oswald’s entire being as he considered her words. It was true that in a clinic Ed could receive better treatment, and that he’d be far more likely to recover quickly, but it was too soon to let go. He had only just gotten Ed back, talked to him, shared a smile with him....been able to touch him...Oswald was a selfish man, and he just couldn’t give that up, not just yet. He had no idea what the Riddler thought of Lee, but he knew that Edward was infatuated with her. If he let this beautiful woman, that he knew he would never measure up to in Edward’s eyes, take Ed now... then all they would ever have was the brief exchange of trust on the docks where trust had been shattered so many times.

“No,” Oswald growled in a low voice, meeting her gaze with a look that held so much venom, but was tinged with exhaustion and a pain that she could never understand, “I can’t let you do that doctor. You’ve done what was needed. Now I suggest you leave before you outstay your welcome.” The threat in his voice and eyes was tangible. Rage bubbled under his skin, fueling the lost adrenaline, making his hands tense into twitching claws that searched for any kind of weapon. He had nothing conventional in this house, but that had never stopped him before.

Lee felt the tension pouring off Oswald. She knew how quick to anger and violence he was but she had rarely seen it in person. And the last few times she had seen Oswald, his demeanor had been almost out right pathetic. Half of her almost wanted to test his rage but Lee knew how hazardous that could be. But that didn’t stifle the growing annoyance in her as well. ‘Seriously...’ Oswald had practicality begged her to come take care of Ed and now he was just trying to get rid of her. Lee wanted to argue against Oswald but she decided that would be unwise. She knew Ed would mostly be okay and she didn’t mind biding her time, besides she still had a lot of work to do back in the Narrows.

“Oswald calm down.” Lee spoke slowly and carefully but held her firmness. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But I’m only telling you what I think is best for Ed... no, anyone in this current condition, that’s all.” She tried to emphasize that she is not trying to persuade him otherwise. “But I’ll go.” Lee moved to start packing up the equipment she had brought with her but remained alert just in case Oswald still didn’t like her answer.  
After packing up everything, Lee approached Oswald and pulled two pill bottles out of her bag holding them out to Oswald. “He’s definitely going to need the pain meds.” She pointed to the first bottle. “The second one is an antibiotic just to make sure nothing gets infected. Do not let him have more than three painkillers per day and make sure he takes the antibiotic with food once a day until the bottle is empty. You're probably going to have to purée his food or at least soft food only. And no drinking through a straw until his mouth is completely healed.” Lee scanned Oswald over to make sure that he heard and understood everything. “Do you need me to write it down for you?” she offered.

The words washed over him in a puzzling wave, forcing his tired, foggy brain to scramble for purchase on anything that had just been said. The tension visibly drained from him with the effort of trying to remember the doctor’s orders, making him look small and very tired.  
Without a word, he hobbled over to a nearby drawer and rummaged in it with unfocused eyes. Then, just as suddenly as he had walked away, he returned with a pad of paper and a pen. He thrust it toward her with probably more force than was necessary, but his hand was shaking and he seemed to be looking through her. Once it was taken he turned his back to her and sagged forward to lean his weight on the table. 

“When you’ve finished....just go...” he said hoarsely, a faint tremor in his voice, “he’ll come back to you eventually....it’s what he does...but for now....” He let the sentence trail off, shoulders hunching.

It seemed like her tactic worked, but Lee wasn’t going to let her guard down, she watched Oswald cautiously. Admittedly she was taken off guard when he forcefully thrust the pen and notepad at her but she hid it well, and slowly took the notebook from him.  
Lee waited for Oswald to take a step away before she looked down at the notepad and started jotting down the instructions.

“I know... I’ll go.” Lee quickly responded to the first part of Oswald’s statement but then fell silent as he continued speaking, slightly bewildered by it. She could feel the pain in his words but maybe it was just physical or mental exhaustion. Either way Oswald’s unfinished sentence only left her more curious and she can’t help the question that managed to escape from her lips.  
“What is Ed to you?” She instantly regretted asking that question aloud but it had already been said so she had to roll with it now. “I mean, you blow off meeting up with me to kill Sofia? Why take the risk?”

Oswald stiffened, unable to stop the sudden sharp inhale of breath as her query brought forth a fierce and agonizing throb to his chest. It pulsed behind his ribs, white hot and vice like, squeezing his heart and lungs with a force that still managed to shock him despite how long he had lived with it now. He cursed himself for his weakness and his hands curled into fists upon the table’s surface, before one instinctively moved to cover the lower left side of his belly. The twisted bullet scar seeming to burn under his hand. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. And without leave of his higher brain power, he answered her. 

“....I couldn’t risk being too late,” he whispered hoarsely, but it sounded deafening to him, “if he’d....if he’d died....without him there’s nothing....he’s everything...”

“...” Lee is utterly shocked by Oswald’s answer. She had been a little suspicious of how Oswald acted when Riddler had brought Oswald to her in the hope of exploiting her resources and there had been other clues in their general interactions with each other that Lee just didn’t really think about at the time that they happened. But despite all that her mind did not seem to want to grasp what just spilled out of Oswald’s mouth. ‘...Oh’ This was somehow unexpected or maybe she just didn’t expect Oswald to simply just admit to it.

“... I’m leaving the pills and the instructions on the side table right here.” Lee leaned over setting the notepad down on the nearby light table and the two bottles of pills on top. She decided not to address the topic... for now. At the very least this meant that she could trust leaving Ed with Oswald for now. And with all that needed to be done to get the Narrows back in order, did she really want to risk dealing with possibly Riddler rather than Ed right now? She had to get everything back in order first. That took priority. She picked her bag back up, “The instructions are simple and straightforward. He should be fine.” She turned to leave but then paused at the door. “There shouldn’t be any problems, but if there is... please call me.” Lee stated without even turning back to look at Oswald and with that took her leave.

Oswald waited for the telltale click of the door’s latch closing before he breathed out a shuddering sigh of relief. His mind was swimming, a red ache pulsing at his temples and tinting his vision with its venomous light. It had taken so much restraint to keep himself from killing her on the spot at the mere suggestion of her taking Ed from him. It was unsettlingly strong. He had thought that his control over his murderous temper had grown, but it appeared that being as worn down as he was now, both physically and emotionally, had impaired that to an alarming level. He knew that she had spoken to him after the suggestion of moving Ed to her clinic, but he hardly recalled the words. They had bounced against the ringing in his ears, muffled and with little meaning. He had answered them with instinct, meaning that Lee had just bared witness to one of his rare moments of pure honesty, but he couldn’t think about that now. He had to take care of Ed.

As the red corners of his vision began to be consumed by black, he limped to the table where Lee had left the instructions and medicine on. With the little strength his shaking limbs had left, he pushed the side table around to sit parallel with Ed’s shoulder. Then he ripped off another piece of paper, sloppily scrawled summary of the instructions that the doctor had left and pocketed the original. It was, perhaps, a childish notion, but he didn’t want anything of her in the room when Ed woke. He made certain that the pills were visible before a wave of dizziness flooded over him in a sudden rush. Spots began to appear before his eyes and everything grew hazy. He took a few shuddering breaths, knees buckling as he let the darkness close in on him...just for a few minutes...he didn’t even feel himself hit the ground as he slumped down next to the sofa, one arm flung haphazardly across Ed’s waist and his forehead resting against the other man’s hip.

… 

Ed slowly opens his eyes and winces “Eh...” His whole body feels like he had just been hit by a freight train. His head is throbbing, most of the pain was pulsating up from his jaw and mouth. ‘Uh... what happened to me. Where... am...’ Ed tries to move when he realizes there is a weight on his midsection. He looks to see a blurred mass resting partly across him and running off the couch. He squints trying to better make out the mass but it doesn’t help much. Then Ed seems to finally realize that his glasses are sitting up on his forehead and reaches up to position them with one hand. He manages to position his glasses back into their rightful place. He blinks a few times as if trying to adjust his eyes, then looks back down at the mass responsible for the weight on his waist.  
“OSWALD!!!” Ed yells and jolts up, so fast that it makes him feel woozy. The wave is bad enough that he has to put his hand to his head in order to make the room stop feeling like it’s spinning.

Oswald grunted, nose scrunching up in distaste as the world suddenly shifted underneath him. He felt his head jolt and land on something warm, but still squirming. His fingers curled in crusty feeling fabric as he tried to bury his face against whatever his head had landed on. He was vaguely aware that someone had shouted his name and it made a spike of pain shoot through his skull like a bullet. “Nnnnnloud...” he slurred, barely conscious, “shouting...huuurtss....ssstop… ”

Ed feels Oswald’s hand grip his pants fabric followed by his attempt to bury his face into Ed’s leg. He feels a shiver run down his spine and tenses up, but can’t do anything besides wait for his head to stop reeling. Once it subsides... “Oswald!” Ed yells as he knocks Oswald in the side of the head in an effort to wake him. “Get off me!”

Perhaps it was the residual rage at Lee still coursing through him, or perhaps it was the months of late night torture at Jerome Valeska’s hands, but in either case, the sudden strike and flash of new pain triggered Oswald’s most primal instinct. His eyes flew open and his hand shot out like a viper, grabbing the wrist of whomever dared hit him in a crushing grip. Even in his half woken state he felt a small thrill at the feeling of bones grinding and creaking beneath his hand. Before his assailant had the chance to react, he twisted himself around and, somewhat clumsily due to his numb legs, sprang forward so that he could pin his attacker with his full body weight. His free hand wrapped tightly around a long, slender throat. His eyes were wild and unseeing, like a cornered, injured animal as he glared down at his attacker with teeth bared.

Ed felt like he had been slammed by a whirlwind. He twinges in pain due to the combination of the crushing grip on his wrist and his head hitting the arm of the couch. As he is forced back down, the pain he has been feeling surges through his entire body. Ed can’t help the short cry of pain that escapes him. As his eyes refocus, he can now see Oswald’s crazed face in his vision. ‘What is evening happening right now?! The last thing I even remember is going to Arkham to...’ He cringes in pain. ‘...what have you gotten me into this time...’ Ed says to himself...his other half in vain. ‘Teh... If Lee is safe then it doesn’t matter.’ An uneasy smile forms on his face. “I guess you were fresh out of chainsaws.” He manages to chuckle out.

Oswald’s brain stuttered at the voice, his head cocking to one side in confusion as his eyes slowly began to focus. He stared at Ed for what felt like ages, pale eyes searching the dark ones beneath him with rising desperation. Then, as though every answer suddenly clicked into place and Oswald sagged with a defeated look. “No....no..,” he muttered sounding distressed, “not you....why is it you?”

“Well If we’re being perfectly honest I don’t want to be here either! Ah..!” Ed clenches his eyes tightly shut for a moment as it starts to sink in that talking was causing him pain and yelling was even worse. Every inch of his being was exhausted. He let out an exasperated sigh before reconnecting eye contact with Oswald. “Oswald... what... what is going on? If you plan on killing me, can we just get it over with?! If not...” He lets out another sound of discomfort. “...Could you get off me?” He says sounding as if he is out of breath, but more so due to the pain as well as Oswald’s weight pressing down on him.

Oswald gave him a long, unreadable look, his eyes showing just the barest hint of deep sorrow before the walls of protective ice descended over them again. Slowly, he managed to drag himself off of Ed, hissing as the prickling feeling of blood returning to his limbs tingled up and down his legs, accompanied by the ever-present first-morning throb of his bad leg. He staggered as his legs hit the ground and he managed to limp his way over to an armchair across from the couch.

“Take those” he muttered sullenly, waving a hand in the direction of the pills that Lee had left and his own written instructions, before pressing his fingers into his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the ache behind them. He felt as though he hadn’t slept at all. His entire body hummed with pain and the grittiness of his filthy clothing grated on his every nerve. “You can leave when you feel up to it,” he added, bitterness seeping into his tone, “I’m sure the good Doctor Thompkins would be 'thrilled' to see you.”

Ed flinched slightly as Oswald climbed down off of him. He is surprised... he hadn’t expected Oswald to simply do what he had asked and the surprise continues when he notices the pills that Oswald had vaguely pointed towards. Ed sits up looking over to visually dissect the table scanning over the pill bottles and the instructions that Oswald had left. A puzzled look forms on his face. “I... I don’t understand..? So you didn’t do this to me?” He seems to say more to himself then to Oswald. “And Lee? Lee is okay?!” That question comes out louder than he had anticipated and he instantly regrets, he pauses his questioning to let the pain fade a bit.

Fury began to burn low in Oswald’s belly. Of course Ed thought that he did this. Everything was always his fault, his doing, his goddamn mess. He’d been forced to take on the blame for so many of the underworld fuck ups that he could hardly remember who had done what anymore. All the big names of Gotham so ready to run from their failures and let little Penguin take the fall. He was fucking sick of it.

“No Ed,” he growled, spitting the name out like poison, “as much as you like to demonize me in every situation possible, I did not do this to you. And yes, your precious doctor is safe and more than likely quite pleased with herself over her triumph with Sophia Falcone. Run off to her if you wish. Never mind that it was her brilliant ideas that got you into the state that you’re in.” He could feel the anger starting to build. Both hands gripped the armrests of the chair so hard that his knuckles turned white and the volume of his voice rose. “Never mind that she didn’t bother to find you when you disappeared and instead went after her own goal! Never mind that if it weren’t for me dropping my pursuit of Sophia, you’d be at the bottom of the river with two bullets in your skull! Never mind any of that! Just think what you will, do what you will and leave me in peace for once!”

“I...” Lee was safe so why did he feel so conflicted. “I... No! I can’t go back to Lee...” ‘I’ll-he’ll kill her.’ “Not yet...” Ed looks utterly confused. His eyes dart up and down Oswald as if trying to read whether or not he was telling the truth about everything. He seemed to be... but Oswald had gotten away with lying to him once before, and just when Ed had put all his trust in him. When they... ‘No... stop...’ parts of what had happened start to come back to Ed in flashes. He pulls his legs in and huddles up in a corner on the couch burying his head in his knees. The words ‘You gave up your revenge for me?’ Ring in Ed’s head... they were his words and he knew it. He lets his legs slide down off the couch so that he was now positioned in a normal sitting fashion. Ed slowly looks up and back across at Oswald with the same puzzling look that Riddler had given him at the pier. “You...? You saved me..?”

“Looks that way,” Oswald snapped peevishly, his anger deflating ever so slightly as he watched Ed curl up under what was clearly a bombardment of memories. His grip on the chair lessened, and ache beginning to throb through his fingers as the white knuckled tension faded. “I was hardly going to leave you to die.” The unspoken jab of ‘Like you did’ hung in the air like electricity crackling between them.

Ed’s puzzled look shifts to one that is a mixture of distress and pure uncertainty as more memories come flooding back to him, piecing themselves together. Ed instinctively raises his hand up to his face rubbing his forehead. “I don’t... What’s the plan...” Ed mumbles almost inaudibly. His hand falls back down away from his face and he looks directly at Oswald. Pain, distress and sheer confusion all displayed on Ed’s face. “Why..?”

Now it was Oswald’s turn to look puzzled. He frowned at Ed, the fire of his anger continuing to diminish as he cocked his head to one side. “Plan? What are you…,” then, all at once, the pieces came together and the fury was back, but this was colder and far more controlled.

“So that’s what you think of me,” he murmured icily, his eyes growing more and more cold in an effort to disguise the hurt. Though if anyone had dared look it would have been plain as day. “I can’t possibly save you from death without some nefarious, ulterior motive?” He leaned back in his arm chair a cold, sore, and tired awareness washing over his anger as he turned his gaze skyward. 

“There is no plan, Edward,” he said finally, voice becoming hoarse with emotion, “I simply.... couldn’t let you die....”

“...” The first comment Oswald makes hits Ed’s ears. ‘What...? Oh no... no.. no no...’ Instantly realizing that Oswald had mistakenly taken his muttering to Riddler to be about him. Ed shakes his head. “No, no... I didn't think there was a plan... I... I wasn’t talking to you...” He pauses a second, why was he telling Oswald all this... he shouldn’t care what Oswald thinks. “...only the ‘why?’ was directed to you.” 

Ed finally seems to register the last thing that came out of Oswald’s mouth. “I’m sorry... what did you say...” But the message seems to sink in on its own.

“NO!” Ed somehow finds the strength to abruptly stand. The tension causes his hands to clench into fists. He was frustrated and clearly warring with himself. “No...” Images of Ed being tortured by Sophia for Oswald’s sake flashes in his mind. “No! Stop!” He almost starts to pace in place. “Why!? He doesn’t care about anything besides his own self gain! I won’t forgive him. STOP! He had us Frozen in a block of ice!!! For months!!!” The words seem to rip through his throat and come out as more of a growl. But then his voice falls weak and almost pathetic sounding. “Why... why would you...” He cuts himself off but the words continue on in his head. ‘Why would I risk my life for him?’ Ed’s gaze drifts to the floor and he just stands there frozen.

Oswald watched the one sided exchange with wide eyes and steadily mounting alarm. He knew of the divide between the two sides of Ed’s personality and had been told of their occasional warring with each other, but he had never borne witness to such a battle, even when they had lived together at the mansion. To call it distressing was putting it very mildly indeed. Oswald felt like he was watching the man that he loved, despite everything, rip himself in half right before his eyes, and though it made guilt rise sickeningly in the pit of his stomach, he had to admit that this scared him. Not because of what he feared Ed would do to him, but because of what he could do to himself. He knew that Ed had been at his best, his strongest when the two sides had been working together, seamless and beautiful in their shared cleverness and cruelty. He had to stop this, but he hadn’t a clue as to how.

Slowly, the smaller man rose from his seat, hands held out placatingly as he took a few steps toward the panicking man. “Ed,” he said slowly, trying his hardest to sound gentle, “stop trying to connect everything at once… you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep pacing like that… just sit down and take a breath… alright?” His heart thundered in his ears, reminding him that despite his denial of fear, he was in real danger.

Ed remains motionless as if he does not even see or hear Oswald at the moment. He finally lifts his sights from the floor looking in Oswald’s general direction. Ed’s eyes seem almost vacant as he just looks through Oswald, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car and his expression just as terrified as one. His body slightly shaking, Ed was clearly warring the rest of this battle within his mind.

Oswald felt his own blood freeze as that haunted gaze met his own and the thundering in his ears grew louder. He felt sick looking at those eyes. Ed should never look like that and he knew that whatever he did in the next few moments could be potentially catastrophic.

“Ed?” He tried again, taking another few steps forward until he was within reach of the other man. He made no move to touch him. “I’m sure you’re in pain,” he murmured, keeping his eyes locked with those empty, dark depths, “it’s probably making it harder to think… perhaps if you take one of those painkillers it might make things a little easier? Lee left them for you.” His gut churned at the mention of her name, but if it got Ed to calm down then maybe it was best.

Ed remains silent and doesn’t budge, but his ears catch Oswald’s voice.

‘You know he is actually trying to help you right now,’ Riddler points out.

‘Shut up! It’s your fault I’m in this situation in the first place!’ Ed snaps back.

‘Yeah. About that, if it were not for me, we would both be dead already! Or is that what you wanted?!’ 

‘I -,’ Ed hesitates.

Riddler sighs. ‘Ed, if you really wanted to die. You would not have let me sway you.’

‘You still tricked me!’ 

‘Yeah, we can have that conversation later.’

Oswald’s voice starts to seep through again, “...it’s probably making it harder to think…”

‘He’s worried about us,’ Riddler addressed to Ed. ‘Are you going to answer him? Or... let me?’ Riddler smirks at Ed. 

‘No! You’ve done-’ 

Oswald’s voice reaches Ed again cutting him off. “...Lee left them for you…”

‘Lee?!’

‘Hm, unexpected,’ Riddler grins and tips his hat forward before fading from sight.

“Lee..?” Ed blinks a few times and the life seems to come back into his eyes. “Oswald...” Ed lets out an exhausted sigh then allows himself to fall back down onto the couch. He leans back raising a hand to rub his forehead. He then looks over at the pill bottles and sighs. “Do you have any water?” Ed reluctantly asks looking up at Oswald clearly worn out.

Oswald blinked in surprise. The cold nausea swirling in the pit of his stomach begins to die down and leaves him slightly dizzy. “Er...uh...right,” he stammered before limping his way over to the kitchen. 

Once there, he focused on finding the necessary things to make sure that Ed could take the medication left behind by the doctor. Water and also something soft and easy to eat to put in his stomach for the antibiotic. A grimace began to form on his face as he sifted through the various canned foods that had been stockpiled in the cupboards. All of it was edible and in good condition, but none of it was terribly appetizing. 

Ed just let himself lean back into the couch again trying to calm down as he waited for Oswald to return. ‘What exactly did I get myself into? And now I have to figure out how to get out of it before HE gets out again... or worse Oswald manages to call him out again.’ Ed didn’t feel like he had much time. The mention of Lee had helped him keep control this time, but he was also painfully aware that Lee was a source of aggravation for HIM. As Ed is still pondering on the subject, he is ripped away by the sound of Oswald clearly digging around the kitchen.

Finally, after much clattering and mumbling, he settled on scooping a small serving from a jar of applesauce into a bowl and made his way back over to Ed with both items. Tentatively, he held them out to the worn-out man on the sofa, trying and failing to stop his hands from shaking, not from fear, but from exhaustion.

“Make sure you...uh..you eat this before you take the antibiotics.”

Ed sits forward eyeing up what Oswald is presenting him with, skeptically. Looking at the two items over, his first thought is to accuse Oswald of trying to poison him… but that seemed... quite counterproductive, all things considered. Ed reaches out to take the glass and the bowl from Oswald when he realizes him shaking. He scans him over noticing that Oswald seemed to be in awful shape as well. Ed let out a sigh then finally takes the two items from Oswald relieving him of the isometric weight. 

“Thank you,” he mutters out. The words stung to say as they were two words that Ed barely ever spoke and he didn’t feel that Oswald really deserved them in the grand scale of things except in this moment, just this moment, his other was right about what Oswald had done. Ed takes a sip of the water then sets it on the small side table near the pills and rest the bowl of applesauce on his lap. He looks to Oswald. “I have no idea how bad I look right now, but I think it is safe to say you look as bad as I feel. I guess we both had quite the day,” Ed says then takes a scoop of the applesauce.

Oswald’s jaw clenched slightly at the comment on his appearance. From childhood, he’d been mocked for his less than conventional feature and it was for that reason that he had always pushed to look his best, taking great care and pride in the face he showed to the world. At this moment, it could hardly be helped as he knew, but it still touched an old nerve that would never stop being raw. 

“Yes well, yesterday was a rather trying day for everyone involved,” he sniffed, managing to regain the haughtiness that he had perfected as the king of Gotham. “Well… I suppose Victor Fries had a good day-,” suddenly his muttering was cut short by a surprisingly loud protest of hunger from his stomach. A light pink flush spread across his cheekbones, making his freckles stand out starkly on his filthy face.

Ed pauses his consumption of his applesauce. “Victor...?” He seems very unsettled by the mention of Victor's name, but he is pulled from his dread by the sounds of Oswald’s stomach crying out. His concerned expression twisting into a smile. “Sounds like someone is a bit peckish.”

“I… suppose I am,” Oswald replied awkwardly, trying desperately to will the heat in his face to die down. Being unsuccessful, he made his way back over to the kitchen to find something for himself to eat. “Between breaking out of Arkham, being frozen and making quite certain that you stayed alive for the last twelve hours, I guess it just....slipped my mind.” 

He scowled at the selection of cans before ripping the lid off a tin of sardines and aggressively shoveling it into his mouth with a fork where he stood. Manners be damned, his stomach felt like it was eating itself.

Ed finished the bowl then set it down on the side table trading it for the pills. He squints at the bottles reading the dosage amounts. But then suddenly looks up and over in Oswald direction seemingly surprised by his statement. “Frozen?” A puzzled look forms on his face. “And... You’ve been watching over me this whole time?” The conflict within Ed is beginning to rise up again and its written all over his face.

Oswald tossed the empty can in the garbage before ripping open another, fruit of some sort, and setting about devouring it as he limped back over to the armchair. He felt as though his stomach had only just caught on to the fact that he was no longer frozen and was demanding that he consume everything in sight. 

“Apart from the hours I blacked out for, yes.....and...yes frozen,” he replied uncomfortably, minor notes of guilt coloring his voice. “Part of yo-...well...his plan to get me close enough to kill Sophia Falcone... I wasn’t going to...I thought that you were... I was fairly certain that the entire thing had been orchestrated to get me killed...” He trailed off, finishing the last of the fruit before placing the can off to the side. His hands, now unoccupied and tense, searched for something to do and settled for picking at the grimy cuffs of his Arkham uniform. “I had to trust you,” he murmured, gaze trained on the floor, eyes staring at nothing, “...it was.... horrible...being frozen I mean...I’m...I know that it means nothing now....but for what little it’s worth...I regret doing that to you.” His heart was hammering in his chest as he spoke. Being this open, this vulnerable with anyone was terrifying. With Ed, it was paralyzing. “When I was thawed out I knew my trust had been well placed. It had been so long since I last felt that....it was like being able to breathe for the first time in...I don’t know how long,” he finally managed to look at Ed with watery eyes, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat, “That’s why I came to the docks when I was told of your fate. I couldn’t let you die after...everything...”

Ed is completely stunned by everything that is coming out of Oswald’s mouth. It is overwhelming... The confirmation that Oswald had saved him and kept him safe all this time. The trust Oswald had to place in him and still had for him, despite all that Ed had done to him in retaliation. Oswald had even basically apologized for freezing him! And now, here he was sitting across from Ed looking like he could completely shatter at any second. 

“I-,” Ed tries to speak but trails off. His gaze drops to the floor and the pill bottles slides from his hands hitting the ground.

“Oswald,” He says looking across at him again. His expression no longer confused and shocked but calm and certain. But then a grimace creeps across his face and he clenches his eyes shut tightly.

“NO! Stay out of this…,” Ed growls before blinking his eyes back open. “Stop! You can’t just... ” He trails off then aggressively turns his attention back to Oswald. “Do.. do you think that this makes up for everything you did to me?! Is that what this is?! Or-,” his voice dies back down to normal. “Or... are you actually sorry?” He observes Oswald carefully, waiting to read his next reaction. But Ed knows that his own expression was likely painted with pain, distressed and fatigue.

Oswald watched Ed with a mixture of fascination and trepidation, unable to quell his instinct to jump back when the other man shouted so suddenly. He shrank back into the chair, cursing himself for his weakness. He could tell that some sort of exchange between Ed’s two sides had just taken place in front of him. The physical ticks had been enough to tip him off, but it had happened so quickly that he’d barely had time to catalogue them. At Ed’s question, he felt a thrill of panic running through him. How was he supposed to answer that?! What would Ed believe? Would he trust anything that came out of Oswald’s mouth, or would he simply dismiss it as another attempt to weasel his way back into Ed’s favor? He could feel himself trembling with anxiety as he struggled to keep his breathing under control when a sudden numbing sense of clarity washed over him. Ed would believe whatever he wanted to believe, so what harm was there in simply telling the truth?

“I...I...” Oswald began hoarsely, coughing to clear his throat and taking a deep breath, “.....would you believe me if I said yes?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper in his muscle gripping fear. “Would you believe that I’m sorry for all of it? That I would take back all of it if I could? Not just for my own sake but for the pain that it’s caused you. Would you believe that I’m sorry for....for killing Isabella....and for my deceit afterword?”

“... You’re what....I...” Ed is at a loss for words, and the wrinkles forming on his face revealed that he was clearly thinking over everything that Oswald had said. He wanted to yell that Oswald was lying. ‘But was he..?’ He didn’t seem like he was. Last time, Oswald was in a position like this, his life was in Ed’s hands but even then... just like now, he had proven Ed wrong. Oswald had actually spoken the words ‘I’m sorry,’ and not only that but he had even pronounced Isabella’s name correctly! “I...” Ed puts a hand to the bridge of his nose taking a deep breath before removing his hand and directing his attention back to Oswald. “I...believe you...” the words come out quieter then Ed intended them to be but to be honest, he was surprised he managed to speak them at all. His perplexed expression deepens. “And-,” He tries to continue but he falls silent, not sure what to say first or what words to use.

The ringing in Oswald’s ears as he watched Ed take in what he had said was so loud that he didn’t even register immediately what had been said in response to his, oh so openly vulnerable confession. His brain began babbling a series of excuses for him to throw out. Little lies and back-peddling diversions so that he could safely pull the shield of deceit firmly back into place and walk away with his head held high while his heart crumbled to dust in his chest. He barely waited for the words to come out of Ed’s mouth before the litany of word-vomit in his head began to spill from his lips. “Of course, that hardly matters. What’s done is done and I’m sure....you don’t....believe....” he trailed off, face paling and eyes widening as the other man’s words clicked into place, silencing every thought buzzing in his skull. “You....what did you say?” he asked in a choked voice.

Ed tries to continue his train of thought when Oswald question catches his attention. He sighed, realizing that he is going to have to repeat himself. “I said... I believe you...” He peers over at Oswald. “But... I also did horrible things to you...” Ed’s puzzled expression returns. “So why apologize?!” Even he wasn’t expecting the spike in his own voice, he pauses to take a breath and shake off the dizzy feeling that is starting to creep back in. “Have you…?” Ed flinches slightly. “Have you forgiven me for all that I put you through..?”

Oswald blinked at him, mouth opening and closing silently like a fish as he struggled to think of how best to say what he needed to say. It figured that his usual silver-tongued eloquence would fail him in a time when he most needed it. His hands fluttered uselessly over the creases in his uniform in an attempt to find some sort of focus. 

“There are...things,” he began slowly, marveling at how steady his voice seemed to be, “that I will never fully be able to forgive. Just as I’m certain that the same is true for you.” He met Ed’s gaze steadily. “There’s a saying; an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth leaves everyone blind and toothless. If there is anything I’ve felt more keenly in these last few months, it’s the helplessness that would come with being blind and toothless.” He bit his lip, sighing heavily. “I’m tired Ed. Tired of fighting and never knowing which hand is about to plunge the knife into my back. All I want is someone to trust again... and as I said on the pier... I trust you Ed. As foolish as it might be, I do.”

Ed tries to listen to everything that Oswald is saying carefully but the discomforting pain from his injuries are starting to intensify again. It quickly sinks in that he never managed to get a pain killer down. He brought a hand up to the side of his face in response to the increasing pain. Despite that, he manages to catch everything that Oswald had said and was surprised that they were on a closer page then he had initially thought. Ed takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly partly to ease the pain and partly for what he was about to say. “I understand... And...” he cringes at the thought of his next remark. “I am... I’m sorry...” The words are painful but not as painful as admitting to himself that it was what needed to be said, Ed knew this was part of what Riddler wanted and it grated at him.

‘You hear that? Despite everything we have done, he trusts us.’ Riddler grins at Ed. ‘Oh, and you know who will never trust us... Lee.’ 

‘You don’t know that!’ Ed yells in his mind at Riddler. ‘And that has nothing to do with whether or not we trust Oswald! Which is what we’re currently dealing with, thank you!’

‘Heh...” Riddler laughs unsettlingly at Ed. ‘We...? No, I know exactly what I want. And I do trust Oswald, because I am confident enough that we could stop him if he proved otherwise... but I do not think he will.’ He smiles wickedly at Ed. ‘And I know, you know why too.’

‘...Don’t...’ Ed mentally glares at Riddler.

‘Struck a nerve again I see,’ his smile breaking into a grin.

‘You’re wrong... leave me alone!’ Ed yells at his other-self. He rubs his eyes trying to shake off the inner conversation, hoping he had not been silent for too long, luckily it seemed like only a few seconds had ticked away. He sighs somewhat in relief then redirects his gaze to make eye contact with Oswald. 

“...I’m sorry... but I can’t completely trust you in return...” Before he can finish, Ed breaks eye contact burying his face in his hands as the pain intensifies. “I can’t... not yet at least...” He manages to finish before letting himself sink back more into the couch.

Oswald lowered his gaze, eyes glassy with what could have been tears, but it was impossible to tell with how quickly he had averted them. A slow, shuddering breath left him as he huddled into his still vaguely damp uniform. “I understand,” he replied slowly, voice quiet and oddly toneless, “it’s only fair I suppose.” He’d known that this was the case. In fact, he had expected far worse, but that didn’t stop it from causing a fierce ache to well up in his chest. Mentally, he shook himself so hard that it even manifested physically as a full body twitch. It was good enough for now and if that’s all he would ever have from Ed, then it was something he had to live with. Words from Ed’s mouth so long ago, drenched in the sound of waves and a gunshot, echoed in his head, “love is about sacrifice,” as he slowly and systematically forced his tumultuous feelings under a blanket of icy numbness. Through it’s freezing clarity, it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Ed take any of the pills that he was meant to take and now, they lay forgotten on the floor where they had rolled to. His sharp eyes flicked up to observe his charge, seeing immediately that the other man was in far more pain than necessary. 

Oswald huffed with irritable fondness, despite the shroud of indifference he was attempting to pull around him and began to push himself up out of the chair. He couldn’t stop the faint groan of pain that fell from his lips as his leg sent a spasm of pain shooting all the way up to his hip, but he shook it off and limped across to where Ed sat. Wordlessly, he picked up the pill bottles, opening and emptying the required dose into his hand before holding them and the glass of water out to Ed again. “We can talk about this in much more detail later,” he murmured, “for now, you have to focus on healing. Stop getting distracted and take your medicine.”

Ed tries to straighten himself back up a bit once he caught the sound of movement, he was at least curious to where Oswald was attempting to shuffle to. Opening his eyes, he is surprised to find Oswald standing before him holding out two pills and a glass of water. Ed has a vaguely confused look on his face, but it softens into a half-smile as he takes the items.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Ed says as his half-smile grows into a genuine smile. He then throws his head back downing the two pills immediately followed by chugging the entire glass of water. He sets the glass carefully down on the side table before leaning back into the couch. “You should go take care of yourself,” he says without really looking at Oswald. “You look worse than Grundy,” he jokes glancing at Oswald, a grin starting to form on his face but then, he flinched, hindered by his aching mouth. “Mmph…,” a slight sound of discomfort slipping out in response.

The corners of Oswald’s lips twitched as though he wanted to return the smile, or perhaps he was simply amused by Ed’s persistent lack of ability to remember that he was injured but in either case, he held it back not wanting to allow himself into that familiar and comforting sense of comradery when he knew that it was only a matter of time before it was ripped away again. Instead, he settled on looking suitably insulted and sniffed haughtily. 

“And whose fault is that,” Oswald replied, only partly teasing, “I can assure you that Eau de mildewy Arkham is the last thing I wish to be wearing right now, but someone had to make sure that you didn’t take off running into the streets while injured. However, if my current state offends you, then I suppose I can oblige.” He limped over to where he had dropped the toiletries he’d been gathering the night before, scooping them up and then making his way to the small bathroom. Just before entering, he glanced at Ed over his shoulder. “You’re free to leave if you wish,” he said, a smile that was somewhere between impish and nostalgic forming on his lips, “but with your condition...you’ll get about three blocks.” With that, he disappeared into the bathroom and soon the sounds of running water could be heard beyond the door.

Ed mocked a look of disappointment at Oswald's first statement. But it soon evolved into somewhat of a smirk at Oswald’s posturing as he seemed to joke that it was Ed’s fault.  
Ed had no intention of leaving at the moment. He knew that it would be unwise in more ways than one, and he had to make sure that his deal with his other still stood, even though he wasn’t currently locked away in Arkham as he had originally planned. He had to ensure some level of Lee’s safety before then.

“... Always trying to have the last word. ” In this case, the very words that Ed had spoken to him at one point that had sparked their once close friendship. Oswald’s comment grated on him but instead of getting angry, he could only smile at it. “Bravo, Oswald...”

… 

Two hours had passed, and Oswald was more humiliated than he had ever been in his life.  
The bath itself had done wonders for his mood and his sore muscles, soothing his aches and pains so that they died down to a dull ache rather than the insistent throb of angry nerve endings. Not to mention, it was the first time he had felt truly clean since he had been incarcerated in Arkham. All had been going deliciously well, but of course, with his luck, he had been doomed from the start. As the water had begun to cool to more of a tepid temperature, he had attempted to get out of the bath. The moment that he had tried to put weight on his bad leg, however, it had seized, spasming so painfully that he had fallen back down into the tub with a yelp and a loud thud. It had hurt and shaken him somewhat but overall, it was nothing worse than the pains he’d endured in the past. He only thanked the powers that be that there had been no one there to witness it. 

After a moment of collecting himself, he made to try again. The result was even worse than before. His leg protested like it was on fire, sending him tumbling back into the tub in such a way that his temple cracked painfully into the porcelain side. He groaned, dizziness sweeping over him as he pressed a hand to the injured site. It came away red and sticky. With a deep sigh, he pushed himself upright and began to think over his options, splashing some of the lukewarm water over the wound to wash away the blood as he did. It was clear that he wasn’t getting out of this tub under his own power. He considered calling for help, but the combination of his pride screaming at him for the notion and the knowledge that Ed was probably long passed out from his painkillers, made him dismiss it. He would have to wait. Perhaps if he refilled the tub, the warm water would ease the hurt long enough for him to get out before his current shame was discovered, he could only hope. Pulling the plug from the drain, he watched the now slightly pink water swirl down the drain as he tried to think of something to occupy his time.

...

“Ugh,” Nygma jolts awake convulsing in an almost violent manner that was sure to have agitated his injuries had it not been for the pain killers still circulating in his system. Breathing heavily at first, it quickly slows to a calming pace as reality sinks back in. He peers around the room. 

The room had a hazy light gray tone from the midday sun piercing through the dark tightly closed curtains illuminating the dancing dust particles of the rarely used safe house. There was no sign of Oswald and no sound. It was quiet... too quiet, an almost deafening silence. He sat up completely turning himself to set his feet on the floor. He adjusts his glasses looking around the room and listening one more time. Had Oswald left? It was possible but seemed very unlikely. Oswald had claimed to trust him... but considering how new their reformed trust was, he doubted that he would be willing to leave Ed alone so soon. Perhaps he passed out somewhere. He stands and begins walking around checking the room, but it was instantly apparent that the main room was clear. What was the last thing he remembered? He recalled blacking out and waking up mid-conversation... the pieces quickly put themselves together in his head like a completed puzzle and he recalled that last he saw Oswald, he was headed into the bathroom... but that had to have been hours ago by this point. He starts to feel a bit anxious.

“Oswald!” He calls out as loud as he is currently capable of as he walks towards the bathroom door.

Oswald’s heart leapt into his throat, his eyes darting frantically to the door and widening slightly as he heard Ed calling him from the other side. Instinctively, his grip on the side of the tub tightened and he tried to hoist himself into a standing position for the fifth time in the last two hours. He couldn’t stifle the pathetic, choked sound of pain that left his throat as his leg continued on its quest of not cooperating. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he managed to lower himself back down without falling before replying “Ah… yes… I’m in here… not to worry, Ed. I’ll be out… shortly...” He cringed at how strained his voice sounded while, at the same time, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that demanded he shelve his pride and ask for help.

Nygma is about to knock on the bathroom door when he hears a slight cry of pain coming from within. “Oswald!!!” He yells and opens the door without hesitation. The words that followed clearly not registering in time to stop him. “Are you...” he pauses a moment seemingly puzzling out the situation, “alright..?” His expression full of worry and concern but as he starts to put the pieces together, he has to hold back the grin that he knew would stain his face if he let it.

Oswald’s head whipped to the door, eyes widening as they locked with Ed’s over the rim of the tub. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, coloring his pale face with a faint flush. His mouth dropped open and his icy eyes blazed with a potent mixture of deep embarrassment and indigance as they took in the tensed, twitching corners of the other man’s lips.

“Don’t you say. One. Word,” he hissed venomously, gripping the tub’s edge so tightly that his knuckles turned white as he tried, defiantly, to push himself upright again. Pain sparked up his thigh as he put weight on his leg, jaw clenching as he breathed sharply through his nose. He wasn’t sure yet whom in Ed’s psyche he was dealing with right now, but he absolutely refused to look weak or like a fool in front of either.

‘Had Oswald been stuck in here all this time?’ He could tell Oswald was clearly embarrassed about the whole situation. “Well if you wanted-,” he swiftly cuts his forming comment short when Oswald starts to attempt to stand on his own. “Oh dear... Oswald...” He instantly rushes over grabbing onto Oswald to help support his weight on his bad leg. “Let me help you. I know how you feel, but you do not have to pretend to be strong around me, Oswald. I already know how strong you are and I have never doubted your strength.” He holds Oswald steady waiting for his response before attempting to move him at all.

If confronted about this situation at a later date, Oswald would have vehemently denied how swiftly his hands flew to clutch at Ed as the weight on his aching leg was blessedly relieved. He would also deny that his heart had suddenly started beating so hard that he feared Ed would feel it through his skin. For a moment, all he could do was catch his breath, willing himself to calm down before he even attempted to look his “savior” in the eye. Once he did though, he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe at all. He felt captured, stuck in searching through his old friend’s eyes for the truth in his words. How could he not seem weak in moments like these? How could he have appeared strong in any way in these last few months as he was manipulated, used, stepped on and bruised by every woman or man that had breezed in and out of his life like it meant nothing? How could he be strong while only standing by virtue of the arms of his weakness? As he searched though, he found the same raw honesty that he had seen the night that they sat before the fire after saving each other, and it flooded his soul with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. With that, though, he also saw the self-assurance and conviction that Ed never fully had a grasp on. ‘Ah, Riddler I see,’ he thought, uncertain of whether or not to be disappointed. 

“What a kind sentiment,” Oswald spat moodily, the pain and embarrassment making him far more snappy than he truly wished to be, “forgive me if I find it hard to believe in the given circumstances. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to feel strength of any kind after being trapped in a bathtub for hours with no restraint or threat.” Feeling heat rise in his face at how childish he sounded, Oswald coughed, turned his gaze away and sighed. “Forgive me.....I.....” he found he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Riddler was a bit surprised by how quickly Oswald physically accepted his help despite his protest only seconds earlier, but he was relieved that his help had been accepted.

“Circumstances do not change your strength. Though it might seem to fail you at times, your true strength never leaves you.” Riddler says in reaction to Oswald’s self doubting comment. “I...” he pauses when Oswald starts to speak again but then he too cuts himself short and Riddler can’t help the slight smile that forms on his face due to Oswald sheepish like awkwardness. “And forgive you for what?” He asked wanting to know the rest of the answer. But he decides not to wait for a response, registering that Oswald current predicament was clearly affecting his ability to answer. “I am going to help you move now, alright?”

It made sense to accept. If he didn’t then he was doomed to remain in this god forsaken bathroom until his useless body decided to function again. The burning doubt that he couldn’t seem to push past was whether or not accepting was worth the price...worth shame. The feelings of weakness and helplessness only built up, despite Ed’s encouraging words. He knew that the other had seen him weakened before, but that had been different. That had been in the wake of the struggle for his mother’s revenge. There had been strength in that. This was pathetic, but what choice did he truly have? Quashing the steadily rising embarrassment, Oswald looked away, ducking his head like an awkward school boy. Slowly, his hands moved to brace themselves’ against Ed’s...no...Riddler’s arms as he nodded. “... Yes...okay...” he murmured in a voice so low and so hoarse that it almost didn’t sound like him.

“Ready?” Riddler says more as a warning than a question. He then carefully helps Oswald step out of the tub. “What are you so worried about?” Riddler questions as he keeps one hand on Oswald to ensure that he is stable while his other hand reaches out to grab his towel from the nearby towel rack. “I am going to let go of you for a second,” he warns Oswald before letting go so he can wrap the towel around him, but Riddler pauses a moment unable to keep his wandering eyes from glancing over Oswald’s completely exposed body. He notices all the new wounds and scars run further than he initially realized. His expression turns cold and almost haunting.

“...Oh... I am going to thoroughly enjoy destroying those that did this to you,” Riddler seems to realize he is getting distracted and pulls his focus back to helping Oswald in the now. He wasn’t sure how much time had ticked way in that moment but he hoped it was brief. He gently drapes and wraps the towel around Oswald. “Are you all right?” Riddler asks as he offers his arm to support Oswald once again if he needed it.

It was strange to be cared for again. So strange, in fact, that Oswald scarcely dared to believe it as Ed’s gentle attentions sent shivers down his spine. He thought that if he closed his eyes for just a second, he could believe that all of this was the true reality and all that had transpired between them was nothing more than an awful dream, but he knew better. Ed’s first question triggered the bubbling of a surprised and slightly strained giggle in his throat. What was he worried about? The better question was ‘what didn’t he have to worry about?’, especially bared as he was and in the hands of someone who could easily turn back to wanting him dead. He didn’t have time to answer though before he felt the other’s deep, scrutinizing gaze traveling all over his body. He knew what Ed saw. Every flaw, every bruise and cut, every twisted scar that molded him into this barely working little thing. His cheeks burned with shame and his hand jerked instinctively to press over the mangled pucker and spidering lines on the bullet scar on his lower belly, but then Ed had said something strange. Something that made his head jerk up and his jaw go slack as he stared at the other man. He took the offered arm, processing both the previous statement as well as the following question. “You....you really meant that you would...” he stammered, his mind racing, “you want to help me get revenge on them?”

Riddler can’t help but be taken aback by how surprised Oswald seems. “Of course!” He answers with no hesitation, barely managing to cover up the offense in his tone. “I thought you said that you trust me,” he says in a lighter, teasing tone. But then, he quickly takes into account how uneasy Oswald is at the moment... or perhaps uneasy was a bit of an understatement. “...It is alright... I realize that I have done equally awful things to you...” Riddler realizes that hints of sorrow and regret are beginning to leak into his voice and so he swiftly changes the subject. “Let’s get you dried off and clothed. Unless you prefer to go without?” His teasing tone returns.

“Absolutely not!” Oswald spat back, banishing his reticence enough to sound scandalized, “I’ve been naked for far too long, and I’ve been damp far longer than anyone would ever care to be.”  
He winced as he began to hobble toward the door, his body throbbing with all the reminders of how ill used it had been in the last twenty-four hours. As he reached out for the handle, he paused, deliberately staring down at it so as not to show his pensive expression to his companion. “I....I do trust you....” he murmured, the knuckles of his hand that stilled clutches the towel around him turning white, “but you haven’t any reason to trust me....that’s why your help is so....puzzling...though I suppose that’s what you’ve always been....a puzzle...” He chuckled mirthlessly.

“Oswald...” The name slips out of Riddler’s mouth, concern clearly in his voice as Oswald pulls away from him making his way to the door. “I was only joking.... Also, you know that your clothes are right here.” Riddler gestures pointing to the towel rack that Oswald had just hobbled farther away from. The towel rack where the clean clothes that Oswald had clearly carried into the bathroom with him were hanging. Riddler sighs, “Do you really think that is true? If it was not for you I would still probably be locked away... And you saved me... again, how many times was it now?” He seems to be asking himself that question more than Oswald at this point. “You could have easily left me to die in pursuit of Sofia, but you did not.” He takes a step closer in Oswald’s direction. “Oswald, you have given me plenty of reasons to trust you, and I do trust you.”

The cold feeling in Oswald’s chest that rises up at Riddler’s supposition that leaving him to die had ever been an option threatened to choke the shorter man. “No,” he said in a soft, hoarse whisper, “leaving you to die would never be easy. No matter how much you hated me...it would always be impossible.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it seemed as though the words spilled unbidden from his lips like the sweetest of poisons. “Thank you...for trusting me...” he turned to face Riddler, a slightly pained smile gracing his lips as he made his way over to the other man and his pile of clothes. As he stood before Riddler, closer now than they had been in months, Oswald’s hand jerked as though it wanted to reach for his companion, but then thought better of it. He instead tried to mask it by reaching for the clothing.

A puzzled look forms on Riddler’s face as he strains to listen to the smaller man’s hoarse, whisper voice. His head and senses clearly dulled by the pain medication. It is true when Riddler was dragged off to the pier, he was just about to accept the fact that this was the end for him... but that was before Oswald showed up. Proving yet again, what Oswald was willing to sacrifice for him... for Ed. The problem was convincing his lesser half that these acts were for him and no longer simply just a matter of Oswald’s selfishness. 

“Oswald...” Riddler’s puzzled expression turns into a gentle smile. “You don’t have to thank me... I am sorry if Ed convinced you otherwise.” Oswald’s movement seems sudden with Nygma’s hazy senses, twitching a bit as Oswald’s hand enters his vision but he manages to pass off the twitch as a shift in thoughts. Unable to determine Oswald’s target, Riddler assumes the clothes are his goal. “Did you want assistants getting dressed or would you prefer I stepped out?” He speaks carefully in order to ensure he doesn’t sound offensive in any way.

Oswald felt his heart lighten at the apology. He’d hoped that their exchange at the dock had meant that they were taking the right step to moving on and at least making peace with each other. This, however, was proof that at least part of Ed wanted the same thing as he did and that, perhaps in time, all of him would. The pain left his smile, turning the expression into one far more open.

“I think I can manage, thank you” he replied warmly, pulling the clothing toward him. “Perhaps, you should rest a little more though. After I’m dressed, we must discuss fetching Martin.”

Riddler looks relieved and his smile grows. “Of course, you are probably right... I am feeling a little off.” He nods “Yes, you will have to tell me the whole story some time and not just the cliff notes version.” His smile shifting to a curious grin, but then grimace of pain crosses his face but only for a second. “I suppose I should try to rest a bit more.” Riddler turns away from Oswald and starts towards the door. He pauses with his hand on the door knob. “Let me know if you need anything.” And with that, Riddler exits the room.

Back out in the main room of the safe house, Riddler makes his way back over to the couch and drops down onto it. The pain medication is definitely still in effect but he felt weird... He clearly has been pushing himself too hard. Riddler leans back into the couch letting his eyes close in an attempt to relax.

Oswald slipped into his clothes as quickly as he was able, wrinkling his nose in distaste at them as he did. The ensemble had been picked for comfort over style due to the sheer amount of stress his body had been under over the last few weeks. However, as he pulled on the faded, torn jeans and frayed sweater, he could not help but pine for his usual finery. Truly nothing could make him feel more at home in his own skin than a well made suit. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he scowled. He hadn’t dressed like this since he was a teenager, and even then he’d had some sense of accessorizing and makeup. With an irritated sniff and a shrug of his shoulders, he left the bathroom, grabbing a towel to scrub over his still dripping hair on his way out. He made his way over to the chair across from Edward, grunting slightly as he sat down. At a glance, he couldn’t quite discern whether or not the other man was asleep, but his need to know the location of Martin were crucial. So, he cleared his throat loudly. “Ed? Are you awake?”

‘So what exactly is your brilliant plan after almost getting us killed on Oswald’s behalf?’ Ed says bitterly ‘You really think we can trust him?’

‘YES! And we have been over this already!’ Riddler snaps back.

‘Yeah... I’m not okay with that...’

‘Oh, but I am,’ Riddler taunts. ‘So what exactly does that say about what you th...’

‘No! Stop that!’ Ed tries to protest.

Riddler laughs at Ed’s reaction. ‘You did willingly agree to go along with my plan?’

‘You tricked me! And I was trying to save...’

‘Lee!’ Riddler cuts Ed off. ‘So you say, were you really?! Or did you finally realize that...’ Riddler freezes when he hears Oswald’s voice. 

‘I hope you know what you're doing... And if you even try to-’ 

Nygma twitches somewhat unpleasantly at the sound of his name being spoken. “Eh...” He blinks his eyes open. “Yeah... I am...” he forces himself to sit more upright, rubbing his temples before looking across at Oswald.

Oswald felt a twinge of guilt for disturbing the clearly exhausted man and gave him an apologetic smile. “Forgive me for disturbing you, my friend,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “If I wasn’t so concerned about Martin’s well-being, I wouldn’t interrupt your rest. I promise that once I know the location, I won’t disturb you further. I’m sure I can go and get him myself.” Oswald knew that going alone was potentially dangerous. He was still a wanted man and he had no way of knowing whether or not Zsasz and Headhunter were still out for his blood, but he couldn’t in-all-good conscience ask Edward to keep running himself ragged after all he’d been through in the last few days.

Riddler’s expression shifts into one that is somewhat perplexed for a second, “What..? Martin...” But he then instantly seems to recalls his actions. “Right! The child that you had me rescue before you. Sweet kid. You know you never struck me as a child person... although I do suppose that you did start warming up to them when you were may-.” Riddler abruptly stops and decided it is best not to finish that statement. Also, he was well aware that he was starting to ramble and Oswald clearly wanted answers. “Ahem,” Riddler clears his throat flinching at how awful it feels to do so. “Sorry... As far as Martin’s location... I cannot let you go alone. I am coming with you.”

Oswald frowned deeply, the implication of Ed’s words sets off alarm bells in his mind. “Ed,” he said slowly, in a voice that like the quiet before a storm, “if I find that you’ve put that boy in danger just to keep him hidden...” He trailed off, the unspoken threat hanging in the air like an executioner's axe poised to drop.

“I assure you, he is perfectly safe.” Riddler stands and tries to straighten his clothes, grimacing at how gross they still are before looking back to Oswald. “However anyone who simply tries to barge in to get to him is not... and will surely meet with an awful demise.” A proud grin starts to form on his face at the thought of his own work but he curves it. “...That is why I am coming with you. Can’t have you getting hurt in a trap that was not meant for you.”

Swallowing down his anger, Oswald sniffed somewhat haughtily in the face of Ed’s obvious pride and looked the bloodied man up and down. “I suppose I will have no choice but to concede,” he replied, irritation still lurking just under his cool tone. “However, you can’t go walking about like that.” He gestures to Ed’s blood soiled suit. “As glittery as you like to be, I’m afraid we’ll have to find something less conspicuous that will fit you here.” He stood and made his way over to the same chest of drawers that he’d pulled his own fresh clothing out of.

“Oswald, Martin is safe I promise you that.” Riddler tries to assure him further still sensing a bit of tension. “I... just don’t want you getting hurt...” The concern in his voice is clear but he immediately shifts subjects the second that Oswald mentioned clothes, “Oh please, anything is better than this right now.” He cringes again as he pulls at his filthy blood crusted and stained suit.

Oswald felt a pang of something hard to identify in his chest at Ed’s words. The idea that his old friend not only didn’t want him hurt but was again prepared to put his own well-being at risk to prevent that almost made him feel as though things were as they had once been between them. They weren’t though. They couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t be that easy. He swallowed thickly against the pain of that knowledge as he pulled out the largest set of clothing he could find. A simple pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. Honestly, had his men gathered these all from a homeless shelter? He scoffed and then turned to hold them out to Ed. “It seems that my employees somehow forgetting my size has worked in your favor,” he said wryly.

“...” Riddler scans over the clothes and his expression drooping into a slight frown. “Well beggars cannot be choosers…,” he says as he takes the clothes from Oswald’s hands. “At least I will not be drawing any unwanted attention to us,” Riddler says mainly to make himself feel positive about wearing such dull clothing. “Well, I suppose I should quickly get cleaned up then, so we can go get Martin.” He starts to turn way from Oswald to head towards the lavatory but he pauses and looks back at Oswald. “Oswald... Thank you.” Riddler gives him a gentle smile before continuing to disappear behind the lavatory door.

Oswald watched him go, a strange mix of apprehension and fondness fluttering in his chest. He still wasn’t sure where both of them stood with each other, but he supposed figuring that out could wait for now. Martin was the important thing to focus on. Once they had him then Oswald could try to examine the dynamic between them more closely. “...You’re welcome,” he murmured, limping away to grab a coat and some shoes.

… 

He led Oswald through the first few puzzles and traps with ease. Intent on solving each puzzle despite being the one with all the answers. Perhaps he just really wanted to see his work in action, at least in some form or he just wanted to make a game out of it. Whatever the reason, Riddler would have forced Oswald to endure the full puzzle house if he hadn’t protested...  
So then Riddler decided to only solve the puzzles and traps that were quicker to complete than to disarm.

Riddler leads the way into the next room. Once they enter, he pauses looking back over his shoulder at Oswald. “Are you doing okay?” Riddler asks concerned that Oswald might be getting tired due to his already pretty worn-out state.

“Hmm?” Oswald hummed distractedly, “yes yes, perfectly fine.” He wasn’t. Oswald’s leg had been throbbing for the entire ride to the warehouse that his companion had built his puzzle hell and he was more than ready to spend an entire week sleeping, but Martin was waiting. He could endure. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we can rest.”

Riddler gives Oswald an inquisitive look. He knew Oswald was lying or at least covering up some of his pain. But what was he to do? He knew trying to convince Oswald to rest was out of the question. He could tell Oswald’s mind was made up, he would not rest until he had Martin. Riddler sighs, “Alright... well you get a few moments to recollect yourself while I go over to the neighboring room to shut down the puzzle trap in this room.” He reaches out gently placing a hand on Oswald’s arm. “Please do not move or do anything until instructed,” Riddler locks eye contact with Oswald. “Understand?”

He could hear the severity in Riddler's voice but despite Oswald's appreciation for another display of concern, the pain and exhaustion was making him bitter. "Trust me," he rolled his eyes. "I have no intention of walking straight into a death trap!"

Riddler surprisingly decides to let Oswald have the last word this time. He knew how exhausted Oswald must be if his own exhaustion was any comparison. "I will be right back," Riddler says before releasing his light hold on Oswald’s arm, then he walks pass Oswald to a steel door in the back right corner of the room soon disappearing behind it.

The room that Oswald was left in appears to be largely made up of metal, or at the very least covered in it. Just ahead, the floor consisted of metal plate tiles. Smooth rectangular slabs made up of the same metal material seemed to run halfway up the surrounding walls. Even the doors seemed to have some of this metal running through them. Despite all of that, what made the room distinctively peculiar was the display of an odd gigantic structure, similar to that of a chess board, hanging on the wall directly across from him. This strange chess board-like configuration consisted of lightbulbs in the center of each square. Below the board on the same wall was what he assumed had to be the exit doors, or in his case, possibly the entrance to Riddler’s next Hell puzzle. He didn’t have an inkling of what insane death trap lay and wait in this room, but his throbbing leg and immense exhaustion were unquestionably a growing burden in this moment. He let out an exasperated sigh. Oswald knew all he could do was wait for Ed to return. What was taking so long?

…

As he stood there, time ticking away with no sign of Ed’s return, Oswald was beginning to feel the tendrils of impatience with just a spark of anxiety beginning to twist in his gut. Every other room had been a breeze. A few moments and Riddler had led him through with gusto and a confident smile despite the pain from his injuries. This waiting was maddening. Perhaps if he had taken the rocket launcher from the previous room. The option to blow a hole through the wall to the next room so that he could simply waltz along on his merry way was becoming more and more appealing with each passing second of silence.  
Tick  
Tick  
Tick  
He let out a growl of frustration, clenching his fists tightly at his sides until his knuckles turned white. ‘It’s fine Oswald,’ he thought to himself, taking a deep breath, ‘Ed will be back soon. The two of you will find Martin together, ensure his safety and then make every last soul that wronged you pay…just ...be patient…’ The briefly distracting thoughts of revenge, accompanied with the thought of it being by Ed’s side again, brought the slightest twitch of a smile to his lips. He really hadn’t been lying when he’d told Ed that being covered in blood was a dashing look.  
Tick  
Tick  
“Ed where the Hell are you?” He grumbled, the anxiety starting to grow and outmatch the impatience. As if on cue, a sudden, loud high-pitched screeching noise blared through the room. Oswald jumped and gave an answering cry of alarm and pain as the motion sent a jolt of agony through his fatigued body.

“OSWALD! WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN US INTO THIS TIME!” booms across the loudspeakers.

Oswald felt his heart drop into his stomach. ‘What is he...no..no no no’ he thought frantically, his heart began to pound as a sickening cold feeling rose in his chest, ‘he can’t do this now! He can’t!’. Every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire as tension took over, but he had to ignore it. He had to get through this and get to Martin and he was damned if he was going to allow Ed taking over with his drama queen finger pointing to stand in his way. “Ha ha, very funny Ed,” Oswald called out, trying and failing to keep his frustration out of his voice, “You’re the one who brought me here remember? Stop playing around and get us through this last room this instant!”

“ME! Last I remember I was still at your safe House!” Ed protests his voice from the speakers reverberating off the medal in the walls. 

“Great. Absolutely great” Oswald muttered, rubbing his temples with perhaps a little more force than necessary. Nothing could ever be simple with this puzzle happy lunatic involved, could it? “We really don’t have time for this Ed,” he called back, a growl edging into his tone, “can you just speed through the part where you argue with yourself for twenty minutes and get me out of here before I touch something lethal by accident?!”

“What! ...” Ed tries to yell back in retaliation but realizes that he is not pressing the intercom and grits his teeth in frustration before holding the button back down. “Urgh… IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY OSWALD!” 

“I really don’t care how it works Edward!!!” He shouted, officially losing his grasp on his temper, “I am standing in one of YOUR death traps with a very real possibility of it activating and killing me right now! YOU made this whether you like to admit that you two are the same or not! I need you to get me out of here so that I can get Martin back!!!” 

“Who?!” he answers sounding confused. “Oswald… I really have no idea what I am doing here… I...I can barely recall making this place…” It’s clear by Ed’s voice that he is still exhausted and feeling defeated by his own counterpart.

That red rage was beginning to descend over Oswald’s vision once again. He knew that if this wasn’t solved soon he would do something drastic in his anger and the consequences of that could be dire. “Who he is doesn’t matter Ed! Whether you remember this place or not, you have to get me through this or get HIM to come back out!! I need your help Ed, now!”

Ed was at a loss, this entire situation was perplexing to him. They were here to save a child? And the urgency of Oswald’s voice? What had HE gotten him into this time? As much as he hated the thought Oswald was right, Riddler was better suited for this situation. 

“What have you done this time? What no snide comment? You could at least tell me how to get out of this mess,” he pauses for a moment and waits, but there is only silence. “What no clue? Okay…okay…” Ed tries to calm himself down by breathing slowly as he can feel his own panic beginning to rise. 

“Ed please!” Oswald called, panic beginning to cut through the rage. Had this all been a ploy? A clever plan to take revenge by killing him and stranding Martin in this death maze until it claimed him too. “Ed if you’ve betrayed me…” 

Ed nearly punches the intercom button, “WOULD YOU BE QUIET!!!” Thunders through the room. “He’s not- I’m trying to figure this OUT!” he barks over the speakers. He then releases his hold on the intercom taking another slow breath as everything falls silent again. 

“Okay, come on you can do this, Ed…,” Ed mutters. He tries to think back on everything that has happened over the last day or so. If Riddler was able to recall moments that Ed had experienced, then Ed figured the reverse should be true. He had managed to remember moments of Riddler’s acts before, talking with Oswald earlier, mainly in flashs or bits but it was something. Ed was willing to take anything that would help him solve his way out of this situation. He closes his eyes and first just thinks about what he himself could recall, waking up, his suit ruined and crusted with blood. The couch, a side table with pills and a glass of water. Then a recollection of his conversation with Oswald, the point at with he realized that they were on a closer page then he had believed… Oswald apologizing… Ed is then suddenly flooded by memories surrounding and proceeding these moments. But the memories and feelings are fragmented, passing by at what seems like lighting speed. He sees the safe house, a blur of lights, the pier, Sofia Falcone and blood. Ed oddy recalls the sensation of being dragged? Lee, Arkham, Martin! And then a beaming unfocused green light… it slowly comes into focus and… 

“It can’t be that easy…” spills from Ed’s lips as his mind comes back to the now. He leans forward on the control panel, gazing through the surrounding glass walls down into the room Oswald was stranded in. His eyes then shift to the board hanging on the wall. ‘The lights,’ Ed’s eyes dart between the board and the room, taking it all in, processing it. His lips parting into a smile as all the pieces seem to fall into place. He reaches for the intercom.

“Oswald… ” Ed pauses as if making sure he has gotten Oswald attention. “I don’t know how to disarm the room... But, I can lead you through it.” He is silent for a moment as if preparing for what he is about to say next very carefully. “Oswald you said at the pier, that you trust me… Can you trust me now to get you through this room?”

Oswald stared at the speaker with a look that seemed to fall somewhere between fury, panic and righteous indignation. The rage still simmered low and volatile in his belly, tempting him to act out, scream, throw things...but he didn’t. He closed his eyes, took a deep, calming breath and without opening his eyes, just barely loud enough to be heard, he said “I trust you Ed.” 

To be continued...

**Author's Note:**

> We apologize for the cliffhanger ending and had planned for this piece to be a completed arc but it didn't turn out that way. But a cliffhanger usually means more to look forward to. We plan on writing more to continue this story. So until then, we hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading.


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